Archive | Satire

At 99 years of age, Fauja Singh is one of the oldest Marathon runners in the world. He has run in over 10 marathons, and has broken 12 UK, European, Commonwealth, and World Records. He had set the British senior records for the 400 meters, 800m, 1 mile, and 3000m. You’re probably thinking, “Hey Billal, I could do that”, well you got a lot of nerve punk! Not only did he break these records, he did it all in one afternoon over the span of 94 minutes.

A bright eyed baby faced Fauja Singh began his running career at the tender age of 81. He soon redeveloped a flare for running and became well noticed when in 2003, he set the marathon world record for the 90-year-old+ category, completing the Toronto Waterfront Marathon in 5 hours and 40 minutes. Eventually Fauja was asked to appear with David Beckham in the Adidias “Impossible is Nothing” campaign to which Fauja commented, “Who is this David Beckham?” Personally it would have been even funnier if when Fauja met David Beckham he handed him the keys to a Toyota Camry and said, “When you’re parking it, try not to get it scratched, and no joy rides!” Adidas eventually named a shoe-range in Fauja’s honour, while Beckham went onto model underwear. OH! I get it, suddenly a 99 year old Punjabi man from Jalandhar isn’t good enough to model CK underwear; YOU RACISTS!

When asked how he manages to stay in such great shape, Fauja answered, “a daily eight-mile walk and run, no smoking or drinking, plenty of smiling, and lashings of ginger curry.” Fauja also muttered something about the lungs of a Cheetah and radioactivity, but no one was really listening. As you probably already guessed, Fauja gives every penny that he raises from running to charity. Essentially, he gives more away than Lindsay Lohan after 2 Bacardi Breezers. Against popular belief, the number “10999” on Fauja Singh’s shirt is not the year he was born; this is an obvious fallacy as it does not end with letters “BC”. In reality the “10999” is the number of people Fauja Singh has Punjabi-kicked out cold for making fun of his age. So the next time you see Fauja he’s probably going to be wearing the number 11000, while I’ll be wearing a full body. Please don’t hurt me sir. I have a young sister who is very sick…you can go after her instead.

Fauja has also run as one of the torch-bearers for the Athens Olympics in 2004, and has personally been invited by former Pakistani President Parvez Musharraf to run in the Lahore Marathon. Ironically, the last thing Musharraf can ever do is “run” in Pakistan. When asked how he felt about all the attention he was getting, Fauja replied, “It makes me happy. Elderly people are like little children, they like attention.” Now if that didn’t bring a smile to your face, than its fair to say you’re probably a bastard. Finally, when asked when he would stop running, Fauja Singh replied, “When I die”.

Now I’m pretty sure Fauja Singh is never going to read this article. But, if he does, I would just like to say that on behalf of the entire South Asian community, thank you for showing us that it’s never too late to find and do something that you love, and thank you for inspiring us to carry on even in the face of adversity.

“Homosexuality is a very touchy subject, one that is especially taboo in the South Asian community.”- Really? I didn’t know that! Thank you for opening my eyes to this new and interesting fact Captain Obvious! Hey Billal, I just wanted to return the favor and let you know that the sky is blue, the sun is yellow, and Old Navy has great deals going on right now on all summer clothing. (I bought some really nice V-necks only $6.00).

ALRITE! I get it; maybe my point is a bit obvious, but I can assure you the rest of my article won’t be as predictable…BANANA! (It’s a start). A great number of people think that homosexuality doesn’t exist, or that it’s some kind of disease. Many Republicans assume homosexuality is apart of a communist plot to destabilize America so Obama and the Arabs can take over. Well I’m here to debunk and dissect the false notions people hold about homosexuals, and homosexuality.

My friend Jasdeep uses the word “gay” as a negative synonym all the time, “that test was so gay”, “this pop-corn tastes gay”, “I wear glasses because my eyes are gay”, “I think that dude kissing that other dude might be gay”. Well, he might have a point on the last one, but you see the pattern. If I went to an online Thesaurus, typed in “gay” and hit search, here is what I would NOT find:

It’s so saddening how some people lack the intellectual capacity to use the appropriateword(s) to express their distaste. I swear to god, those people are so RETARDED!

Many people are under the impression that homosexuality is unnatural and thus should not be common in nature. There are many gay animals in the animal kingdom; I know what your thinking, the PEACOCK! And the FLAMINGO! You would think so, but apparently not. The dolphin (aka the gay shark) has been reported to participate in homosexual sex as well was non-reproductive sex. Many apes, including the famed Bonobo also regularly engage in homosexual sex. I bring up the example of animals because the same people who used to argue, “It doesn’t happen in nature” are now saying, “Well, we’re not animals”. That is completely untrue, we are animals, in fact we are the smartest animals on this planet. We as humans are so smart that we have the ability to make the irrational, rational. Tell me, when is the last time you heard of a homophobic dolphin?

Many also believe that homosexuality is a disease or sickness; these people are known collectively as “idiots”. To prove my point you can run a very simple test. Here’s one method; you miss a really big exam, and then you tell your Professor that the day prior to the exam you fell terribly Gay. While at the YMCA, Steven (a homosexual) sneezed on you, and his gay germs entered your straight body thus making you gay as well (temporarily of course). You spent the entire night prior to the exam walking a small dog, getting a $60.00 hair cut, and watching Lipstick Jungle (I did a google search, apparently they love it). But after 2 days, presumably the regular healing period, you feel fine. You then hand your Professor a Doctor’s note saying: Please excuse your name here; he/she was unable to write their exam due to “temporary acute homosexualitis” the main symptom of which is being fabulous (obviously). Now, if I was the Professor, I would pat you on the back and express my admiration for your courage, and bravery. There are indeed very few people in this world that would dare to publicly prove their stupidity in such concrete terms. To be fair, I say all this as a man who’s missed an exam, and has had to have a very long and awkward talk with the University councilor and the Dean.

My awkward life aside, many people (not just idiots) feel homosexuality is unnatural, and conversely many feel the same way about homophobia. It is very easy to demonize something you don’t fully understand, particularly something, which you feel, is so different, it borders on deviancy. Now I’m not here to preach at you, or force you to accept homosexuality as a norm. But what I would like to say to you is be a free thinker and don’t blindly accept the views of others as your own. Think independently, look at the facts, use your brain, and remember at the end of the day, these are human beings. As my friend Jasdeep would say, “Man, sometimes homophobia can be so gay.”

http://dictionary.reference.com/ defines “diversity” as the state or fact of being…blah, blah, blah. Who cares! I mean really! What kind of Canadian, especially a Torontonian goes to an online dictionary to find out the meaning of diversity? Scratch that, what kind of person in general starts anything off with, “The dictionary defines_______ as…” How little must these people know about their topics? I don’t need a dictionary to define diversity, in the same way I don’t need a dictionary to define a wedding or funeral. I know what these things are, I’ve experienced them, and some ten-word entry in an online dictionary isn’t going to change the way I feel. So I say f*** the mechanical definitions of the online dictionary, because this is what diversity means to me.

One of my friends asked me something interesting the other day, “YO B-LAL, is diversity a positive or negative thing?” Well, I replied, firstly it’s pronounced “bil-al”, and secondly, I’m not sure. It’s a strange question, sort of like asking if a chair is a positive or negative thing. Well, I guess sitting on a chair is quite nice, but getting beaten with one isn’t too much fun. Essentially, that means that the answer is your choice, the glass can be half empty or half full. Of course many people feel that their native culture is being diluted, and slowly slipping out of their grasp. They struggle to hold on to their traditions, and a way of life that was once familiar. What some of these people don’t understand is that even culture is time sensitive. The country you left 20 years ago is not the same country you will find today; things change, people change, and the world changes. And now I’m changing paragraphs.

So, am I saying that the people who stringently try to preserve their culture are doing wrong? Of course not, there is nothing wrong with trying to preserve your native culture. It’s the closest thing you have to being back home, or rather I should say the place you grew up. It’s something you want to show your children, “This is where I came from, this is a tiny bit of the life I used to have before I came to this country”. In a world that I feel is slowly becoming homogenized by globalization, it’s nice to know we have people who are fighting back against the Coco-Cola takeover. It’s because of people like this we have places like Chinatown, Kensington Market, and of course Little India (also my hip-hop name). These people, inadvertently (or not) contributed greatly to the diversity of Toronto, and Canada by first serving a community that was a home away from home.

Unlike the people I’ve discussed above, I’m not really a “conserver” of the culture; I’m the product of a new one. As the title of the paper suggests, I’m the “generation next.” I’m the Pakistani with chopsticks dipping samosas into wasabi. I grew up in diversity referring to it as normality, as is often the case. I guess the greatest advantage of this upbringing is that you begin to forget about the ethnicity of other people; it’s simply not something you consciously think about. To someone who was raised in diversity, race is simply subtext. One of my best friends is a Vietnamese guy named Tinh. When ever we go to lunch or visit each other I never think “this guy is Asian” even though he is. In my head, he’s just my friend Tinh. Of course this isn’t to say race is invisible, it stares you right in the face. From time to time Tinh and I will ask each other about our cultural customs, or practices. But for the most part we throw jokes at each other that acknowledge our ethnic minority-ism. For example, yesterday I went to chill with Tinh and we ate some pizza.

Tinh: Why are you people always late? What happened this time, did you get a hole in the magic flying carpet?

Billal: Why are you always so early? This is two friends having lunch, not a corporate Japanese business meeting. Also, I’m not sure an Asian guy should be making driving jokes, no matter what the vehicle.

And then we laugh, unless someone takes it too far in which case we continue to eat in awkward, racist silence.

Ethnicity is what we commonly associate with diversity, which is of course true, but not all encompassing. While exploring Toronto I visited Church and Wellesley which isToronto’sLGBT-oriented community. If you’re still not sure what I’m talking about, this neighborhood is also known as: the Gay Ghetto, the Gay village (which makes the residents village people), and my personal favorite, the Gaybourhood. Not to stereotype homosexuals, but the place looked fabulous. Also, I’ve never felt so attractive in my life, granted I was hit on by men and I’m straight, but hey, it’s the thought that counts, right? It’s like the old saying goes; all the good ones are either taken, gay, or write for the South Asian Generation Next.

In essence, a true Canadian knows that diversity is the act of simultaneously being different, equal, and united. Diversity isn’t just watching both Hollywood and Bollywood movies. Diversity is Chinese lesbians wearing saris, and South Asians eating with chopsticks. It’s about making pizzas out of roti (don’t pretend like you haven’t tried), and dipping samosas into wasabi. It’s about participating, while allowing others to participate, and conserving, while at the same time changing. It’s about knowing that we are all Canadians and privileged to be so. Happy Birthday Canada!

It’s that time of year again, when the city fills with so many flags you would think we had just turned into our very own UN. But don’t worry, this article isn’t about the boring UN, it’s about soccer, a much more admired international institution. Many people have said that if women ruled the world, there would be no wars. Opposingly, if I ruled the world there WOULD be wars. These wars would be fought on a soccer pitch, not a battlefield, using players instead of soldiers, and ball instead of bombs and guns.

And you know what? It seems that the world is catching up to my humanitarian level of conflict resolution; sort of… We haven’t stopped battling globally, BUT it does seem that FIFA is taking into account global turmoil/economics when devising which teams may face each other.

If you notice Japan and South Korea have been separated from North Korea possibly due to their conflicting pasts, and sadly present. However, the dispersal of the Asian teams may also reflect a need to keep the Asian Fifa market running. Kim Jong Il, the North Korean dictator/crazy person had announced that prior to the world cup he would only inform his citizens (prisoners) of Korea’s victories. If you’re a little bit confused about what I just said then you may not know that outside communication (internet, international newspapers) are banned in North Korea. It’s a shame North Korea ended up in the hardest group possible. It looks like Kim Jong Il will just have to tell his people that the World Cup was cancelled this year.

Also notice that all the African countries have been dispersed so they do not face one another. The logic behind this move is more economical than political. The host nation is African (South Africa), therefore Fifa wants to make sure all African teams have an edge in making in to the round of sixteen. Since inter-African travel is obviously cheaper than international travel, you are bound to make a higher profit from the Africans; this would be on top of other sales. And let me tell you there definitely will be an African team in the round of sixteen; South Africa (host nation). As far as I know, in the history of Fifa the host nation has NEVER failed to advance to the round of sixteen (gamblers tip). Obviously this is another way to not only make sure local excitement for the cup stays high, but also to turn a higher profit and obviously boost the economy, although I’m sure how much Fifa cares about that.

But it looks like as South Asian’s we have been left out of all the fun; we’re on the sidelines and not in the arena where we belong. So, since there are no South Asian teams, which countries do we as South Asians support? The answer, as I have found is pretty eclectic. I support England, my cousin supports Germany, my brother likes Nigeria, and my friends would prefer South Africa, Cameroon or Ghana to win the cup. But let’s say, hypothetically, that a South Asian team did make it into the world cup. How would the rest of us feel? Would we support them, feel indifference, or want them to fail? As an Indian how would you feel if Pakistan got into the world cup and started parading around with their flags and honking their horns every time they won a match? Now my guess is you would say you’re indifferent. But come on, your only human, after you hear a car horn paired with a Pakistani flag enough times classical condition sets in, and you get annoyed. And really, why shouldn’t you? The countries of South Asia have a moderately conflicting past to say the least. But in the world cup “South Asia” doesn’t exist, it’s all about the individual country. No one ever cheers for the country right beside their own. Ireland won’t support England, Canada won’t support the USA, and India wouldn’t support Pakistan. To an extent the World cup is about National pride, and there is no way any country would ever support their biggest rival; and that’s fine.

In war, and in soccer, the only way you will ever unite two conflicting forces is to find a common enemy. And to that extent I hope one day that every single South Asian team does make it into the world cup. I would go a step further and say I would like us all to play as one team; “South-Asia United”. But most of all, it would be my preference to solve our problems on a field without guns and bombs. South Asia is 20% of the world’s population and 0% represented the world cup; that needs to change. Let’s put down the cricket bats, and use them as goal posts. It’s our time to take the stage.

Author: : BIlal Sarwer ,bms041788@hotmail.com. I like compliments and complaints; maybe you can combine the 2 and tell me how good I am at being terrible.

Ali and John have been best friends ever since college. Five years later Ali met Zarah and they decided to get married. John was asked by Ali to give a speech at this Pakistani wedding. John doesn’t bother doing his research or preparing because he figures he’s got this thing on lock down. What ensues is the worst best man speech ever given at a Desi wedding. Enjoy.

Aslamalakium you terrorists and women of oppression, haha, only kidding. I’m John, Ali’s best friend, and I will be your white infidel speaker for this evening. I would ask that you all please hold your applause and celebratory AK47 gunfire until after I’ve finished my speech. Remember to switch off your cell phones and detonators; we don’t want either going off and interrupting the wedding; I’m looking at you guy in the turban [points at the Imam]. Now when Ali told me he was marrying Zarah I was surprised. I thought these things were usually arranged, or at least there was some exchange of cattle and spices, but apparently not. Ali and Zarah have chosen to marry each other under the modern western principles of compatible income and similar attractiveness; “love” as they call it. When Ali first met Zarah he told me that she had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. [Crowd goes “awwww”] Ali must be a true gentleman, because I’m looking at Zarah right now, and the 2 spherical objects that pop out to me are definitely not her eyes. [The crowd gasps, except for one uncle who nods his head]

To be honest, I always thought that Ali might be a gay, or as you people would say, “someone who is a bachelor after 30” But then on June 8th, 2005 Ali started dating the most beautiful, funny, intelligent, and charming woman that I have ever met. [Zarah blushes and smiles]. But after Ali dumped that chick, he hooked up with Zarah! [Zarah’s jaw drops].

But enough about the bride, lets talk about the groom. You may not know this but Ali used to be a little bi-curious. But don’t worry Aunties and Uncles, from what I hear he’s satisfied that curiosity [Ali buries his face in his hands.] Now I know that Ali has a certain image in all our eyes. He’s the perfect son, the perfect gentleman, and a devout Muslim. But did you know Ali has a dark side? I’ve seen Ali eat bacon sandwiches, take the prophets name in vein, and do a line of cocaine off an Engineering text book. And let me tell you, that was one of the craziest bachelor parties ever! [Tries to hi5 Ali, who does not respond]

I would just like to say to Ali and Zara, may your marriage last longer than the national average of 7 years, and may your subsequent divorce be quick and painless without the need major legal intervention. Although if things do turn ugly during the settlement, I happen to know a guy who’s really good [Hands a business card to Ali].

Thank you, and stay classy Baghdad!

Author: Billal. M,Email: bms041788@hotmail.com (I will respond to any questions, comments or proposals of marriage)

Somewhere in Rawalpindi there is a seven-day affair and you have begun choosing your attire accordingly. It’s your mother’s cousin’s fraternal aunt’s sister in law’s wedding. And suddenly she’s very close family. If you are a local then this is your chance to make your mother’s aunt’s daughter in law’s neighbour’s teenage daughter look bad. Yes, she will be present too. Phone calls will fly across the globe and emails will go faster than CIA can tap them. If you were smarter you may have already searched up the potential groom on facebook. You will take a temporary job as an investigator and dig out the amount of his pay, his employer and maybe even, if he likes Atif Aslam better or Himesh Reshammiya. If he’s an NRP (Non-Resident Pakistani, because we copy everything from India including its terminology) he better prove it with his accent. If he says he’s from Canada but talks like he’s from Australia, he’s really from Sargodha. There will be a manja, at least two dholkis, a mehndi, the niqah, a reception and valima (after reception). There will be relatives from Islamabad flaunting their ‘new’ Deepak Parwani clothes, which have been circulating around the family for the last six months, worn by anyone who will fit. There will be Lahoris who will easily be set apart from the others, because they will not be found in the wedding hall. They’ll be in the food tent. There will be Karachittes who will act like they have arrived from a whole different country altogether. The residents from Defence Housing Authority will be difficult to communicate with, since Urdu and Hindi is still foreign for them. You will have the most trouble telling apart from Quettan guests and peeps from Pakhtoonkhwa (formerly North Frontier). The ones with naswar (local narcotic) and little boys are Pakhtoonis. If you weren’t invited at all, your entire generation has been severely insulted; even if you hadn’t even known the couple existed. By now as days get closer you have harassed your embroidery worker, cursed your jewellery designers and raped your tailor. But everything will be prepared in time, if you’re lucky then two hours prior to the event. The wedding venue will range from Pearl Continental Hotel to tents. The bigger, the better. Here you will meet relatives you never knew existed, and you wonder why in the world so many people have arrived, and so much food, and so much of everything. Four hours into the wedding you’re hungry. Finally the bride arrives but you fail to recognize her under her makeup. It looks like she got ‘gangbanged by Crayola,’ the old expression comes back. An hour later the groom arrives fresh from Toni’s Hair Salon with arched eyebrows. It turns out he’s your father’s cousins’ husband’s best friend’s younger brother. Just when you were beginning to feel like its 1985 in Ethiopia, the food arrives. Rich in oil and fat but taste, you forget all about your recent commitment to healthy eating. After it is all over, you will have a collection of pictures in different poses, lots of criticism and even a belly pouch. But most of all you have picked up some wedding tips for yourself, it turns out your mother found you a good rishta at the wedding reception. Now it’s your turn.

ME-OW! Cougars are attractive older women over the age of 35 who enjoy dating younger men, usually in their 20’s. This kind of dating behavior is becoming more acceptable in North American society; just look at Ashton Kutcher who married Demi Moore. Ashton went from being a single, good-looking, popular movie star, to marrying a woman 15 years his senior with 2 kids. Hey Ashton, life just called: YOU GOT PUNK’D. But on the other hand, Demi got exactly what she wanted; something shiny on the outside and hollow on the inside. Now if you’re an older woman, particularly a South Asian woman, you might be thinking, “BILLAL! I don’t care how empty his head is! I want my very own Shahid Kapoor!” Well you’re in luck! (although I can’t say the same for Shahid). Forty year old cougar Rita Sangha, through her “cougar camp” teaches older women techniques to attract younger men (“cubs” as she calls them)

But why would an older woman prefer a younger man? According to Rita Sangha, older women are more comfortable with their sexuality, while younger men are better at performing sexually. By that logic one really wonders how older men get younger women, oh wait, that’s right, CASH! Moving on, Rita says that older men are less dynamic, boring, and have a jaded view of life. I’m not a Doctor, but these seem to be the classic symptoms of a condition known as a “marriage”.

Rita stresses these cougar-cub relationships can be more than just a matter of sexual fulfillment, and that some women have actually fallen in love and gotten married to their younger men. Rita says that she herself does not feel her own age, and actually has more in common with a generation 15-20 years younger. Admittedly, she is a serial cougar having dated a number of cubs, the youngest being 17 years old. Seven-teen may seem like a very tender age, but I’m sure this brave youth will recover from the “traumatic” experience. Most men are offering him their support and condolences in the form of high-fives.

Now I don’t want you to get the wrong impression; Rita is a feminist at heart and sees herself as a role model. You have to keep in mind that the South Asian community is much more accepting of an older man dating a younger woman than the reverse. Due to her strong views and subsequent career path, Rita finds that she is an outcast in her own cultural community. She prefers not to attend South Asian functions as she quickly becomes a negative, albeit popular topic of conversation.

Rita views the trend of older women dating younger men as a shift in gender roles and power. She feels the South Asian community, as well was the community at large are still adjusting to this shift. Rita says she wants to help women realize that they have certain sexual desires, and that these desires are entirely natural. They shouldn’t cause you guilt, and you shouldn’t have to repress them to appease what she calls a “patriarchal society.”

As personal taste goes, Rita prefers NOT to date young South Asian men referring to them as “immature” (keeping in mind this is on top of being in their 20’s and male). As a young South Asian male I was insulted by that comment, however I then reread all the jokes in this article and decided that maybe, just maybe, she had a point.

On a side note, I personally think the word “cougar” is only associated with older, attractive, WHITE women. We as South Asians need our own way of branding older attractive women as predatory felines. I suggest we call South Asian cougars, “Tigers”, although this may cause unnecessary conflict if the “Tiger” in question happens to be Tamil. You generally run into a similar problem when you refer to Black cougars as “Black Panthers”. As for Asians, the term “Asian Cougar” is an oxy-moron as it is a demonstrable scientific fact that Asian people do not age.

Now for what you’ve been waiting for, here are some of Rita Sangha’s patented tips for getting a younger man:

1. Act like a doormat and you’ll end up on the floor. Never call him, never ask to see him, and never say you love him first. It’s essential to make a younger man think you have a busy life even if you don’t.

2. Never mother him.

3. Make the first move. There is no harm in approaching a younger guy in a bar. Why not try this pick-up line: “I think you should ask me out. This is a limited and exclusive offer.”

4. Get in touch with your sexual being. Visit a Sex shop or take up a sexy pastime like pole dancing.

If you would like to learn more about Rita Sangha visit her website, and join her “cougar camp” at:

At Pearson, Uncle Dardiwala sat with a passenger in the waiting lounge, the mister in an oversized tweed coat and unchi shalwar. Mr. Islamic shalwar sighed “we are forty minutes late for boarding; I hope the plane reaches in time. Uncle Dardiwala joked “array miyan, time chordo plane sahi jaga ponch jaye yahi bardi baat hai!” (Oh mister, forget time, the plane reaches the correct destination, itself is a big thing). I had to laugh with the uncle; travelling alone makes you want some company, however old or odd. Soon, horribly clad green shalwar kameezs with floral mismatched dupattas and caked with red lipstick, aunties greeted us. They showed us to our respective seats.

If your bladder does not cooperate avoid taking the window seats. The menu is a scam. It’s bigger than the illuminati. That over boiled rice and leftover korma pieces is not biriyani. Strange, I was expecting a ‘lohta’ in the washrooms; disappointment. Luggage was not a problem. Once it was, coming back, the conveyer belt came to a halt, cargo was shifted, suitcase by suitcase, manually. There is a very bad collection of movies, and not enough good songs. No stickers or souvenirs. There is gossip, clatter, smelly babies and duas among the plane turbulence. The relaxing chairs will give you osteoporosis if you sit for a few hours longer. When you land, be prepared to walk a mile to customs, see them straighten up as they glance at your blue passport, and wait a lifetime for your bags to come.

Don’t wear skinny jeans and put on your fake Gucci glasses. But when you reach the glass doors, you will feel the heat, smell the earth, and see the very unfamiliar, familiar faces. Welcome home. PIA flight PK 703 has landed in Karachi @ Jinnah International Airport.

Twitter should be very proud of getting ahead of facebook in helping the authorities in New York City to track down the suspect of the home-made car bomb.

A group that you-know-who claimed responsibility for making this home-made bomb to teach a lesson to the “Shatan’s” USA all the way from Pakistan.

Woohooo! Way to go man! I am thoroughly impressed! In a land where these days you have to ‘buy’ drinking water in scorching equator heat, there is no electricity for the most part of the day, where there is load-shedding of natural gas and no way to cook your meals, where there is hardly internet available (I know because I haven’t webcamed with my long distance boyfriend in over 3 weeks), these people living in rocky mountains have TWITTER! Gosh! Talk about the world being a global village and talk about being technologically savvy.

I wonder how they did that? Constructed a home-made computer by using the TV from 1940’s? Oh, my bad, they don’t watch TV there, only Satin appears on TV. So where did the computer come from? Maybe I am over looking things; the cell phone is the culprit!

One thing they do have in abundance in that over populated country is a lot of CONSUMERS! So they have millions of cell phones and millions of cell phone users and thousands of packages to choose from to call within the country (If only I were there, my long distance relationship would have reached a very mature level by now).

So, the cell phone companies don’t fight over No Contract advertisements and they always have more customers than they can cater to. Imagine this, they don’t even need any customer service; if the customer is not satisfied, he can leave and they will very easily have another one. I would love working for such a company where I can tell the really upset customers to f off! Now that’s a very successful capitalist society.

So, my best guess how Twitter got to them is through cell phone! You-know-who must have spent more than a year to learn how to use and make a Twitter account. But I am thoroughly disappointed!

How low have they stooped from their values, they are making use of the Satin’s device and Satin’s technology to pass on their message. Shame on them for being a part of the Twitter cult!

They were successful to keep their women inside the sacred boundaries of the homes away from the clutches of any sort of Satin shadowed western or eastern knowledge, they were successful to burn down the schools that were the breeding grounds to spread Satin’s words, they were successful to throw out the Jeans and Shirts, the Satin’s dress (oh wait, does Satin wear clothes?), they were successful to finally FIND the HOME of the Satin: the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, and now they have finally given up their fundamental values. Those shameful people have used technology, tainted their innocent minds with the jargon of technology, learnt English, Satin’s language and OH MY GOD, even USED it to communicate. HOW SHAMEFUL!

They even got the recipe to make the home-made bomb off the internet. Tsk, Tsk Tsk. The Satin has taken over their minds. They will be forced to hell now and how badly would they miss those beautiful damsels that they were promised they would get in heaven. Those pretty women with big eyes and beautiful skin. How hard they try to keep away from them in this world and how badly they desire them in the afterlife. Hypocrites! Shameless people who have been taken over by the Satin.

I think they should point their guns towards cell phone companies. They seduced them with their cheap affordable packages and lured them into using the Satin’s technology and introducing them to the sins of Twitter, Facebook and Youtube.

Talking about YouTube, I really wonder if they are already enjoying the glimpses of those pretty damsels with big eyes on their little cell phone screens. I wonder if Sasha Grey has made her appearance or are they still content by just looking at Malika Sherawat? I really wonder.

But wait, I really feel I am living in the 16th century as compared to those technologically advanced you-know-who who are using the satellite internet. Why does my iphone (3GS) still lack a Twitter application? Holy Jesus (I mean Holy Allah), I need to hurry and update myself, I am soooo living in the tenth century.